Life Askew
by KarasumaFirestorm
Summary: Bethany decides to seek out Jay and Silent Bob... Do chaos and odd romantic twists ensue? R for language.
1. Chapter 1, The Sabbatical

Hey there, folks! Not my first fic, but my first attempt at this sort of thing. Basically, we see what happens to the View Askew characters in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, but what about Bethany and the others from Dogma? Anyway, I hope you like it, please review!  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Bethany ripped yesterday's page off of her day-to-day calendar. A wistful smile crossed her face as she looked at the date. One year.  
  
It was so hard to believe that a whole year had passed since that insane adventure she'd undertook had ended. Bethany couldn't help smiling as she leaned over Alanis's crib. ~What a beautiful baby girl,~ she thought. ~If you only knew...~  
  
Alanis, as if hearing Bethany's thoughts, opened her eyes and said something in garbled baby speech. Bethany stroked her daughter's fine brown hair. "You're lucky I didn't name you Rufus," she said, and laughed. What would Rufus think of the new last Scion? Would the two ever meet?  
  
The force of Bethany's own thoughts struck her, and an errant tear fell. She missed them all so much. Jay, with his incessant requests for sex. Bob, with his mute friendship and sweetness. Rufus, with his wisdom and wisecracks. Serendipity, with her friendly demeanor and biting wit. Metatron, with his big brother attitude. Even Larry and Barry--er, Loki and Bartleby--she missed them, too.  
  
Bethany's reminiscent melancholy waned as she dropped Alanis off at day care and drove to the clinic, however. The pro-lifers were already assembled outside, and started verbally assaulting her and crowding around as she made her way up the walk. "Baby-killer!" the one with the slightly scarred face taunted as he got unsettlingly close. "Bitch! You're going to burn in hell!"  
  
Bethany snorted. "You're going to have to talk to God about that," she replied.  
  
"What's *that* supposed to mean? God knows who you are and what you're doing, you murderer."  
  
She wheeled to face him, a look of annoying calm on her face. "Look, I've spoken with God personally, and She doesn't seem to have any qualms with my line of work, thanks. So if you don't mind, I have a child to support, so I'd better get to work."  
  
It was beyond her why she still worked in the clinic, she thought, pushing open the door. She felt no pride in her work, but she did feel some loyalty to the place still. But today, she was feeling under the weather emotionally and was slumped on the table in the break room when her coworker Liz found her.  
  
"What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Mmph," Bethany's voice came muffled, mumbled into her folded arms.  
  
Liz rolled her eyes, an unseen gesture. "English I can understand, please. This isn't another crisis of faith, is it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Still a believer, then?"  
  
Beliefs. Oh, how well she remembered her conversation with Rufus on the train about beliefs versus ideas. She felt a twinge of pain at the memory.  
  
"Yeah," she said softly. "I am."  
  
"Then why the long face?"  
  
"I..." Bethany started, unsure of how to put into words the pangs of regret and fondness and everything she was feeling right then. Suddenly, like a lightning bolt or some other sign from God, which it very well could have been, it hit her. "I need to take a sabbatical. Liz, can you do me a huge favor?" Before the other woman even had a chance to say anything, Bethany plowed on. "I need you to take care of Alanis for me for awhile. I have to go to Jersey."  
  
"Whoa. Wait a second there," Liz said, holding up a hand. "You have to go *where*?"  
  
"The great state of New Jersey."  
  
"Why on earth would anyone *have* to go to *Jersey*?"  
  
"It's a long story," Bethany said, getting up and starting to get her things together. The sooner she left, the better.  
  
"I don't know if I should even let you," Liz said doubtfully. "I mean, the last time you ran off unexpectedly, you came back fucking pregnant. Just what is in the state of New Jersey that you need?"  
  
"Not what, who," Bethany said impatiently, checking her purse to see if she had enough cash. Hmm. She'd have to run back to the apartment for a change of clothes.  
  
"This isn't a whole 'gotta find my baby's daddy' thing, is it?"  
  
Bethany smiled. "My baby doesn't have a daddy."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I didn't get laid in Jersey, Liz. As a matter of fact, I didn't get laid at all." She shrugged into her coat. "You have the spare key, right?"  
  
Liz, dumbfounded, could only nod.  
  
"Great. Alanis is at the day care, it closes at five. I'm going to the apartment, I'll get some baby things together for you." She leaned over and pecked Liz on the cheek, and couldn't help wondering what Jay would say to that. "Thanks, Liz. It means a lot to me."  
  
And she was out the door. 


	2. Chapter 2, The Quick Stop Guys

R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Meanwhile, in Jersey...  
"Fuck, man, this ain't no Quick Stop," Jay complained, leaning against the brick wall of the high school. Silent Bob nodded.  
  
The bell rang, and kids started to pour out of the building.  
  
"Yo, lemme get a nickel bag," a kid with a spiked collar said. Behind him were about twenty other kids fishing out wallets and whatnot.  
  
Jay reached for his stash and grinned at Silent Bob. "Pays better, though."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Bethany found the fabled Quick Stop rather easily, and walked right in, hoping the employees were locals that knew where she could find Jay and Bob.  
  
An annoying little bell went off when she came in. She scanned the place; two clerks were lounging behind the counter. Other than that, it appeared to be dead.  
  
"Can I help you," the bearded clerk said in a monotone, not looking up from his newspaper. Behind him, a guy in a baseball cap was engrossed in a porn magazine.  
  
"Um, yeah..." Bethany said. "I'm looking for two guys...you might know them?"  
  
The bearded one looked up. "Who?"  
  
"Their names are Jay and Silent Bob."  
  
The guy in the baseball cap looked up from his magazine. "You're looking for those two chuckleheads?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?" the bearded guy said incredulously.  
  
"They're friends of mine."  
  
"You're a friend of Jay and Silent Bob," the bearded guy said slowly.  
  
Bethany was getting impatient. This was going in circles. "Yeah. Do you know where I can find them? They once mentioned something about a Quick Stop, that's why I'm here."  
  
"They hang out here a lot," the one in the baseball cap said, putting down his magazine and leaning forward. "Out front. Idiot weed merchants."  
  
"Hey, the fat one isn't *that* bad," the bearded guy said. He stuck out his hand, and Bethany shook it. "Dante Hicks. Lord and Master of Quick Stop. That idiot is Randal Graves. Why are you looking for those two? For the life of me, I'd try to stay away."  
  
"We met about a year ago in Illinois, and I came with them to Jersey. I thought they might like to catch up, find out how my baby's doing."  
  
"WHAT!" Randal shrieked in his weird nasally voice. "One of those duck fucks fathered your kid?"  
  
"God no!" Bethany said.  
  
"Then why the hell else would you be looking for them?"  
  
"I *told* you, they're friends of mine," Bethany said, fixing Randal with an annoyed glare.  
  
Dante rolled his eyes. "Don't mind him, he's just suffering from a severe lack of intelligence."  
  
"I'll show you a lack of--" Randal said, getting up.  
  
"Dude, would you shut the fuck up*?" Dante said over his shoulder. "Jesus."  
  
"So, where would they be?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Dante said. "Randal had a restraining order on them awhile ago, but that ended, I think."  
  
"Restraining order?" Bethany asked.  
  
"Yeah, we don't want those assholes scaring away the customers," Randal said. "We've got fucking old ladies coming in here." He paused. "And they were spreading rumors that Dante here and I were gay," he added, eyes flickering back to the porn mag once more.  
  
"They said that *I* was the bitch," Dante whined.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"The bitch and the butch of the relationship," Randal confirmed.  
  
Bethany cocked her head to once side and studied the clerks. "Nah, you'd be the butch," she informed Dante.  
  
"Thank you! I could kiss you!" Dante said.  
  
"I wouldn't if I were you," Randal warned. "If you cheated on me, I'd dump your ass *so* fast..."  
  
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Dante said. He turned to Bethany. "If you're looking for them, I think their new hangout is at Hudson High School."  
  
"Thanks, guys," Bethany said, and as she exited, she could still hear the two clerks bickering about their fictional intimate relationship.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Hudson was even easier to find than the Quick Stop. Although school had gotten out a half hour or so earlier, there were still a few kids lingering around. Bethany asked around, but no one seemed to have found Jay or Silent Bob.  
  
"Christ," she moaned, throwing up her hands, "it's not that big of a place. Somebody must've seen those potheads..."  
  
"Youse looking for Jay and Silent Bob?" a voice asked.  
  
Bethany turned around, and saw a stoned high school kid leaning against a tree. "Yeah, I am. Do you know where they are?"  
  
"Yeah, I heard something about them goin' to the Secret Stash," the kid drawled.  
  
Bethany's brow furrowed. "The what? Is that some sort of smoking place?"  
  
"Naw...Brodie's Secret Stash. It's this comic book store. Those guys know the dick who works there."  
  
"Thanks a bunch," Bethany said.  
  
"No prob," the kid answered. "Youse wants some weed?"  
  
"Aren't Jay and Bob gonna be pissed you're moving in on their turf?" Bethany asked, gently declining the bag he offered to her.  
  
"Those guys? *Fuck* those guys. They're fuckin' clown shoes."  
  
"Yeah, I get that impression." 


	3. Chapter 3, The Drunken Flashbacks

R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
From the grand tour of Red Bank she'd been taking today, it was a wonder she hadn't run into Jay and Silent Bob by now. With some help from the locals, she'd been able to find the infamous Secret Stash, and was accosted by a wacko eating pretzels as she came in the door.  
  
"I don't think I've ever seen you here before," he said.  
  
"I haven't been here before," she replied, and tried to sidestep him.  
  
He would have none of it. "Let me guess, hoping to find your wayward boyfriend here so you can drag his ass home and have him make you dinner? Or maybe even dump him in a public setting because you're just so fucking pissed of him ditching you for comics?"  
  
"None of the above, thanks," she said shortly. "I'm from out of town. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to browse. Unless you think that scaring away customers is a *good* idea."  
  
"Touche."  
  
Bethany was now wandering aimlessly, too tired to pay attention to much, and she bumped into someone. She whirled around, instantly remorse. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"  
  
"Oh, no, I'm fine," the guy said. And Bethany got a good look at him.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
"Bartleby..?" Bethany said, totally confused. From Jay's reports in the aftermath, Bartleby had met his fate courtesy of a forgiving God. But here he was, standing before her, bigger hair, a five o'clock shadow, and a decided lack of hoodie, wings, or breastplate.  
  
"No, no..." he smiled, held out a hand. "Holden. Holden McNeil."  
  
Bethany shook his hand numbly. "Hi."  
  
Holden frowned at her, obviously concerned. "You alright?"  
  
"You just look so much like someone I know--used to know..." she answered, a bit dazed and definitely staring at him.  
  
"This is just like the time you wanted to fuck that Barry guy on the train and not me!" a voice proclaimed. Bethany looked over just in time to see Silent Bob elbowing Jay in a familiar way. "Us," Jay amended.  
  
"Jay! Bob!" Bethany said, elated, and hurried over to give them both a hug.  
  
Holden was soon standing at her side. "You know these two dirt merchants?" he asked.  
  
Bethany laughed and swatted Jay away as he tried to hump her. "Know 'em? I followed them to Jersey...twice." She grinned at Silent Bob. "How've you been?" Bob shrugged.  
  
"I gotsta let you know..." Jay said, looking almost serious, "I got a girlfriend when I went to Hollywood. But I can probably still fuck you on the side, until she gets out of jail."  
  
"That's such a nice offer," Bethany said dryly. "Wait...girlfriend? Jail? *Hollywood*?"  
  
Jay smiled, striking a 'pimp' pose. "You wanna go do it right now? You can still fuck Silent Bob all you want, all he got was a monkey." Silent Bob nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Back up...someone tell me what the fuck is going on...a monkey?"  
  
Holden laughed. "It's a long, strange story... See, my friend Banky and I used to draw this comic together, Bluntman and Chronic. Eventually we broke it off, I signed my half of the rights over to him, and he sold it to Miramax."  
  
"Oh my God!" Bethany said, clapping a hand to her mouth. "I saw that movie! It sucked," she added as an afterthought. "Lucky you, not signing your name to that piece of shit."  
  
"You're telling me," Holden said. "Hey, want to finish this over dinner? My treat."  
  
"You're not gonna end up talking her into a fucking three-way with Banky, are ya?" Jay asked. "'Cause, you know, she was my girlfriend --*our* girlfriend," he amended with another elbow to the ribs, "first."  
  
"Fucker, shut up," Holden said, looking quite irritated. "So," he turned to Bethany, "dinner?"  
  
"Sure, lead the way."  
  
~~~~~  
  
"So these two fucks decided that they didn't want Banky and company down at Miramax to make them a quote, 'bad name', unquote. Though that idea still seems a tad farfetched to me. But anyhow, they dragged their stupid asses all the way to California, managing to steal a monkey and get unwittingly involved in a crime ring."  
  
As Holden held center stage, Bethany was cracking up. Silent Bob looked a little embarrassed at the tale. Jay was too stoned to notice, or if he did, he was too stoned to care.  
  
"You stole a monkey?" Bethany choked out, and Bob nodded.  
  
"So they end up taking half the money Banky made, and use it to --get this," Holden said, laughing, "they use it to fly around the country, and beat up all the idiots who said shit about them on the Internet!"  
  
Bethany and Holden erupted in laughter. Bob grinned, mildly embarrassed. Jay was enraged. "If those fucks had been saying shit about you, you would've beat the shit out of them too!" he spat. "Well, maybe not, 'cause you're a little pussy bitch."  
  
"Yeah, you wrote the book on pussy bitches, didn't ya, Jay," Holden said nonchalantly, swigging the last of his beer.  
  
Jay glared, but was too stoned to come up with a suitable comeback other than a mumbled 'fuck you'.  
  
"You know, I saw that Bluntman and Chronic movie. It sucked," Bethany contributed, drinking her beer.  
  
"You said that before."  
  
"It needed to be said twice. I never realized they were the basis for it." She grinned at Holden, toasting her empty bottle to him. "You upset about not cashing in on it?"  
  
"Well, every now and then I get a moment of 'what the fuck was I thinking?'" Holden said, smiling at her in a way that he hadn't smiled in a long time. He hated to admit it--but he was attracted to Bethany. "So, tell me about yourself. How'd you come to meet these two?"  
  
"I don't know..." she started tantalizingly. "The last time I told this story --the *only* time I told this story-- it was totally to the wrong person. And they tried to kill me."  
  
Holden gaped. "Someone tried to kill *you*? That seems so unlikely."  
  
"Believe it," Bethany said knowingly, falling into her mild drunkenness. Fortunately this time, she had Jay and Silent Bob looking out for her. "Okay. Do you believe in God?"  
  
Holden shrugged. "At times I find it hard to believe that someone's looking out for me at *all*, much less a disembodied nothingness that happens to be watching everyone else, but for the most part, yes. I do. Why?"  
  
"Well, at the time I was having this huge crisis of faith..." 


	4. Chapter 4, The Embarrassing Stories

I've been getting mixed reviews on the Bethany-Holden situation, and to be honest with you, I myself don't know how it's going to pan out, so just sit tight and suffer with them, I guess. Thanks for the love, and to quote the guy at the end of the Clerks episodes: Thanks for watching! ;)  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
It was late. With shades of the past, Jay had fallen asleep on Silent Bob's shoulder. Bob was listening as Bethany finished her bizarre tale, Holden eating it up enthusiastically. Bob noted with interest that Holden was very, *very* wrapped up in Bethany's story--and Bethany. The oddest part was, Bethany seemed to be returning the admiration equally.  
  
But that was crazy. Bethany was a single mom working in an abortion clinic; Holden was an on-again-off-again cartoonist. They were one of the most unlikely couples anyone could think of, even more unlikely than Holden and Alyssa Jones, known lesbian. At least, as far as Silent Bob was concerned. But it was only his imagination, he was sure.  
  
"God, I'm wiped," Bethany moaned, slumping forward slightly on the table.  
  
"Can I drive you home?" Holden asked politely.  
  
"I don't have a 'home', per se...I just got here today," Bethany admitted, absently spinning her empty bottle on the table. It rattled and wobbled a little, but settled into a smooth rotation.  
  
"Well, how about you come and stay at my place?" Holden offered. "You can ask Jay and Bob --I'm not a stalker or a rapist."  
  
"Good to know," Bethany said with a laugh. Three pairs of eyes were transfixed on the spinning bottle. It clattered to a stop, and Bethany's eyes traveled up the neck of the bottle, past an invisible line, to Holden.  
  
"That's really sweet of you," Bethany said. She glanced at the bottle, then back at Holden, and kissed him decisively on the cheek. "Thank you. I'd love to stay at your place."  
  
Holden, surprisingly, turned sort of red. "Guess we'd better go, then," he said, coughed nervously, and got to his feet. "I'll see you guys when I see you," he said to Bob and the just-waking-up Jay. He paused, his gaze lingering on Silent Bob. "You're not gonna have a weird-ass story for this situation, are you?" he asked, nodding his head slightly towards Bethany, who didn't notice.  
  
Silent Bob looked from Holden to Bethany and back again, and resolutely shook his head.  
  
Holden grinned. "Much appreciated." He helped Bethany up and into her coat.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Holden was silent for the drive home. Bethany had fallen asleep in the front seat. Whenever he had the chance, he couldn't help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She was really pretty--okay, gorgeous. Holden was surprised at the surge of emotion he felt for Bethany, especially after the whole Alyssa issue had blown up in his face.  
  
But there was just something about her...  
  
Even with her unbelievable story and her wacky past and her child --fuck, a *child*!-- he was attracted to her.  
  
No. Of *course* he wasn't. He'd sworn off relationships, after losing Alyssa. Sure, he'd dated. But it didn't mean anything. It never had before Alyssa, it didn't after. Now that he'd known love --real, true love, almost fictional in its seriousness and intensity-- dates and sex meant almost nothing.  
  
A red light. He paused the car, looked at Bethany, who was peaceful and calm in slumber. Beautiful.  
  
~You're willing to try again.~  
  
He shook off the thought, and hit the gas again, pulling out into the night. Bethany Sloane was just a new acquaintance, someone he'd met through friends, someone he liked, someone he was being sweet and charitable to...  
  
God. What would Alyssa say?  
  
Did he *care* anymore?  
  
He pulled into his space, and leaned over, gently shaking Bethany's shoulder. "Yo, Bethany."  
  
"Wha..?"  
  
"We're here."  
  
"Mmkay," she murmured, and rolled over as best she could in the front seat.  
  
Holden rolled his eyes, and shook her shoulder again. "Bethany. We're here."  
  
"Where's here," she said sleepily.  
  
"My place. Where you're staying. You wanna get out at some point?"  
  
Bethany responded by muttering something completely unintelligible. Holden sighed and undid his seatbelt. This evening was turning out to be quite a handful.  
  
There was a boom of thunder as Holden reached into the car and unbuckled Bethany's seatbelt. She didn't stir. "Bethany, c'mon," he muttered, but she fell limply into his arms as he picked her up.  
  
Holden kicked the car door shut, shifted Bethany in his arms, and was just barely to the front porch when the sky exploded with rain. He groaned, and raced onto the stoop, pressing the practically comatose Bethany against the wall for balance while he fished desperately for his keys, to no avail. By the time he had made it inside and safely deposited Bethany on the couch, they were both drenched.  
  
Holden shook his head, so fiercely that water droplets sprinkled onto Bethany's already soaked clothes, and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.  
  
Of course, Bethany chose that precise moment to wake up. "Where am I?" she asked, dazed.  
  
"My place. Potzer's Inc.," Holden called from the kitchen.  
  
"Who..?"  
  
Holden popped his head into the living room. "Holden."  
  
Bethany smiled, obviously relieved. "Holden. Of course. I'm sorry, I'm just so out of it."  
  
Holden grinned back, he couldn't help it. She had a great smile. "I'm making coffee...do you want some?"  
  
"Sure." She stood up, studying her wet clothing. "Ah..."  
  
"It's raining," he said quickly. "My room's through there, feel free to rifle for some dry clothing."  
  
"You're being really nice," Bethany said, looking rather embarrassed. "I don't know how to say thank you."  
  
"You just did," Holden said.  
  
Bethany blushed. "Um...can I use your shower, maybe?"  
  
"Sure, it's right in there," Holden said, pointing.  
  
"Thanks," she answered shyly, and made her way into the bathroom. It took a second before Holden realized he was staring after her, and the water was boiling.  
  
He quickly poured some coffee, left it to cool down, and wandered into his room to find some clean clothes. He could hear the sounds of the shower going, and Bethany humming tunelessly. It brought a smile to his face, and he kept grinning as he left his wet clothes in a heap on his floor.  
  
"Holden?"  
  
He was in his underwear, ass bent to the door, lost in a daze. "Yeah, Alyssa?" he said, rising, and turning with a smile.  
  
Bethany was standing there, wrapped tightly in a towel, looking confused. Holden felt his cheeks reddening. "Oh! Um. Bethany. I--"  
  
"I just forgot to take my --er, that is, *your*-- clothes into the bathroom with me," Bethany said, averting her eyes. "They're, ah, over on the bed there..."  
  
"Um, yeah," Holden said, grabbing the neat stack of his clothing and handing it to her. He never once looked up.  
  
Bethany hurried out of the room, and Holden cursed himself for being an idiot. And for thinking about Alyssa at the most inopportune time.  
  
But what did he have to prove to Bethany, whom he hardly knew? He held no loyalties to her. She was a friend of friends (if you could call Jay and Bob friends). And Alyssa...he'd been so in love with Alyssa. He was an idiot to have thrown that away, and there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't dwell on this, as much as it pained him to do so. She'd moved on. Why couldn't he?  
  
Ten minutes later, he was settled on the couch watching TV, sipping his coffee idly. It was late, he had no real reason to be drinking it, but something about the bitterness soothed him.  
  
Bethany wandered in, looking incredible in a pair of his old jeans and a loose-fitting shirt, her hair blown dry and falling loosely around her shoulders. She sat down next to him, and involuntarily, unbelievably, his heart stopped.  
  
"So, who's Alyssa?" she asked, accepting the coffee he quietly offered her.  
  
"Oh...um...ex-girlfriend," he said, not wanting to divulge so personal a story, at least, not so soon.  
  
"Must've been more than that," she observed idly, eyes on the hockey game on the screen. "I saw the way you reacted, I reacted that way around my ex-husband." She took a gulp of coffee. "While we were still together, that is. So, how serious was she?"  
  
Holden stared at her profile, a study in deliberate nonchalance, then settled back on the couch with a deep sigh. "Only the love of my life, cheesy and cliched as that may sound."  
  
"Please," Bethany scoffed. "Everything in life is cheesy and cliched, with time. I gave you *my* tale of woe; you owe me yours." She turned to face him now, earnest and open. She offered him a smile as bait.  
  
Holden bit. "Well..." 


	5. Chapter 5, The Long Distance Calls

I've been getting mixed reviews on the Bethany-Holden situation, and to be honest with you, I myself don't know how it's going to pan out, so just sit tight and suffer with them, I guess. Thanks for the love, and to quote the guy at the end of the Clerks episodes: Thanks for watching! ;)  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Bethany stirred, eyes squeezed shut tightly. Light was filtering into her room, she reached blindly for her comforter to yank over her head, and found nothing. She aimed to cover her head with a pillow instead, but found that her pillow was unusually shaped...it was warm...it was *moving*...  
  
Christ. She blinked, stretched her arms out without moving. She was spread out on a couch, head resting of the chest of a snoring Holden McNeil. She peered upwards at his face, at his good looks, at his serene expression, at the slight amount of drool building at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"Shit," Bethany muttered softly, and dragged herself into a sitting position without disturbing Holden. It occurred to her that her bag was still in Holden's car from last night. She added retrieving it to the mental to-do list she was already forming, and ran a hand through her tousled hair thoughtfully. She'd have to do something to thank Holden, definitely. The guy was being the sweetest bastard she'd ever known, short of Rufus, and maybe Bob.  
  
Bob. She'd have to wander down to the Quick Stop later, thank Dante and Randal for their help, not to mention actually meet up with Jay and Silent Bob, as the two stoners were the real reason she'd dragged her ass to Jersey. Speaking of which, she should call Liz and see how things were going back at the home front.  
  
It took a few minutes to locate the phone in Holden's comfortably cluttered home. The guy was clearly too used to the bachelor life, she thought ruefully, throwing aside an old magazine. She punched in her calling card number, then dialed Liz.  
  
"'Lo."  
  
"Liz! It's Bethany."  
  
Liz sounded immensely relieved. "Thank God you're okay, Bethany. I was going crazy, what with extra parenting duties and shifts, covering for your Jersey-bound ass."  
  
"And I'll owe you big one of these days," Bethany swore. "How's Alanis?"  
  
"Sleeping. I daresay, like a baby," Liz said dryly. "Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?"  
  
"Something along those lines."  
  
"You calling from a hotel or something?"  
  
"No, this guy's place."  
  
"I *knew* this was about a guy."  
  
"Liz, it's not about a guy. I don't even know this guy, really."  
  
"Then why the *hell* are you staying with him?"  
  
"He offered..." Bethany said weakly.  
  
Liz sighed. "I give up. I'll leave you to do your...your whatever. Your sabbatical. You have fun."  
  
Bethany hung up, and stretched her arms above her head. She was exhausted. All those things she had to do today...they could wait, right?  
  
"I hope so," she muttered, and wandered off to Holden's room, where she promptly collapsed on the bed.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Holden woke up an hour later, sprawled upright on his couch. He recalled that he and Bethany had fallen asleep discussing ad nauseam his failed relationship with Alyssa. Why he'd opened himself up to her like that, he wasn't sure. He barely knew Bethany, and ultimately, he was still aching from Alyssa's brush-off.  
  
But he liked Bethany. He liked her a hell of a lot. And he was pretty sure she felt the same. He was totally confused as to what to do. So the way he saw it, he had one option.  
  
He found the phone and dialed Banky.  
  
"Yo."  
  
"Bank? It's Holden."  
  
"Dude, it's seven o'clock in the fucking morning. Why the fuck are you calling me?"  
  
"Well, it's hard to explain. See, this chick who's a friend of Jay and Silent Bob came to visit them..."  
  
"Prison pal? Prospective buyer?" Banky asked.  
  
"Not that easy. Actually, she's a decent person. Single mom, church-goer, works in an abortion clinic in Illinois, really beautiful," Holden said.  
  
"Uh-oh. I smell a plot twist."  
  
"No, that's just your mom's stink traveling through the phone lines," Holden said dryly.  
  
Banky laughed. "Fair enough. So what's the buzz?"  
  
"Basically, she just got into Jersey last night or so and needed a place to stay, so I let her crash here."  
  
"Ah, so you need a 'how to kick her out without ruining any possibilities for further chances at getting laid' excuse."  
  
"Fuck, Banky. I didn't sleep with her." Holden exhaled sharply, glanced towards the bedroom, where he'd seen Bethany passed out. "I...I really like her, Bank."  
  
"Big surprise there. Another lesbian?"  
  
"Look, are you gonna help me or not?" Holden said, getting annoyed.  
  
"So you like her," Banky relented. "What's the problem? She hate you? Have a boyfriend? What?"  
  
"I told you already, she's a single mom. So she's got no one, and she seems to like me well enough." Holden ran a hand through his hair. Once Banky counseled him, he was going to need a shower, he decided. He was rather grimy. No wonder Bethany had opted for the bed rather than staying curled up on the couch with him.  
  
No, not *with* him. Near him. Close to him.  
  
Too close. He remembered hanging out on the couch with Alyssa, it made his heart contract.  
  
"I reiterate, what's the problem?" Banky said, breaking the reverie.  
  
Holden sighed deeply. "The problem is, I feel that by liking her at all, I'm being disloyal to Alyssa."  
  
"Alyssa, who dumped your sorry ass months ago and is currently seeing a *female* swimsuit model Alyssa?" Banky interjected.  
  
"How do you begin and end a question with the same word like that?" Holden said. "You got skill. Yeah, that one. I can't believe she's with a *girl*."  
  
"She's a lesbian. Go figure."  
  
"How does one man get to be so funny?" Holden asked.  
  
"Years of living with your funny-book-drawing ass. You were saying before the personal attack?"  
  
"I really feel...I don't know, drawn to her. Like I was with Alyssa, but different. Better, even. Maybe. I don't know."  
  
"Well that was decisive."  
  
"I called you why..?"  
  
"Jesus Christ," Banky said, exasperated. "So you're not sure if you like her or not, but you think you do."  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"Then go for it."  
  
"Yeah, but what if I do, and she rejects me?"  
  
"It wouldn't be the first time," Banky observed sagely.  
  
"Or what if we *do* hit it off...think of all the problems *that* will cause. She lives in Illi-fucking-nois, Bank! And she has a fucking *kid*! I don't know if I can handle that kind of shit. I mean, that shit is big time."  
  
"You wanted kids with Alyssa, didn't you?" Banky said softly.  
  
"Yeah... I guess I did. I don't know. But it was different. Our kids. And that was going to be with time. This...it's all so sudden."  
  
"No one's asking you to be a fucking father, Holden. Take it a day at a time. And as for the Alyssa thing, well, *fuck* Alyssa. No, wait, you already did that."  
  
"Funny."  
  
"I know. But whatever, you know what I mean. It's been forever, dude. It's time to fucking move on."  
  
Holden nodded, then realized Banky couldn't see him. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it. Listen, you wanna have breakfast this morning? You can meet Bethany, and tell me what you think. I know it's asking a lot, but..." Holden faltered, unsure of where to go with this. Suddenly, Banky's approval meant everything to him.  
  
"Yeah, I guess, since I'm already *up* and what not."  
  
"Oh, shut up. It's not like you were gonna do anything anyway."  
  
"How do you know that? I could be entertaining a lady friend, even as we speak."  
  
Holden laughed. "Yeah fucking right. I don't think Hoop would appreciate that comment much."  
  
"Shows how much you know."  
  
"You got me there. Meet you in an hour or so?"  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
Holden paused, still a little shaky of their repaired friendship, after all that had happened. "Um...thanks, Banky."  
  
"For the breakfast? Fuck, no thanks needed. You're paying."  
  
"No, not just for that. For, well, everything. I really appreciate it."  
  
There was a long pause, and for a minute Holden wondered if Banky'd hung up. "No problem. Holden...good luck. See ya later."  
  
Holden smiled. "Yep. See ya."  
  
He went into the bathroom, feeling better about, to quote himself, well, everything. Banky was, for once in his moronic life, totally right about the Alyssa thing. He should just let it go. And he was going to do just that.  
  
He hoped. 


	6. Chapter 6, The Thirteenth Apostle

I've been getting mixed reviews on the Bethany-Holden situation, and to be honest with you, I myself don't know how it's going to pan out, so just sit tight and suffer with them, I guess. Thanks for the love, and to quote the guy at the end of the Clerks episodes: Thanks for watching! ;)  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
"Yo! Bethany!"  
  
The voice was familiar. Every time she'd woken up in the past twenty-four hours or so, she'd been met by something wholly unexpected. What would she see when she opened her eyes *this* time?  
  
"Beth-an-y..." the voice sing-songed again, and Bethany jumped up, eyes alight with realization. This was something *holy* unexpected. "Rufus!" she cried out, lunging across the bed to hug her old friend. "Oh, wow, it's so great seeing you...how have you been?"  
  
Rufus shrugged. "Oh, you know. Dead."  
  
She laughed. "So how did you know where to find me?"  
  
Rufus fixed her with a long stare. "Bethany. I'm dead. I've got nothing better to do than watch you most of the time. That, and watch Bea Arthur."  
  
"Bea Arthur? Should I ask?"  
  
"I like the Golden Girls."  
  
She smiled. "Of course."  
  
"How's the last Scion doing?" Rufus asked, making himself comfortable on Holden's bed. Bethany was pleased to note that he was actually wearing clothing this time, though they looked kind of familiar.  
  
"She's doing great...are those Holden's clothes?"  
  
"Well, he was in the shower when I arrived, and seeing as how he lent you some of his clothes already, I figured an extra dead guy thrown in the mix wouldn't make much of a difference."  
"Somehow, I doubt he'll see it that way."  
  
Rufus laughed. "Maybe if you explain it to him... You know, I think he has a thing for you."  
  
"Holden?" Bethany laughed, and sat down on the bed. "Yeah, right."  
  
"Look, I may be dead, but I ain't stupid." Rufus paused as the two stared at each other. "Why aren't you giving him your all, then? Still hung up over that ex-husband of yours?"  
  
"No!" Bethany said, and giggled. "Oh, oh God no."  
  
"So what's the hold up, kiddo? You're into him, he's into you..."  
  
"It's not like that," Bethany insisted, and looked at the floor.  
  
"You two fell asleep last night after relating your life stories to each other," Rufus pointed out with a smirk. "Now, to do that with someone you just met, you're either in a life or death situation like a Sandra Bullock movie, or you're secretly wanting to screw the other person."  
  
"Funny." Bethany sighed and faced Rufus. "I just don't know... Is he...okay? I mean, is he a good person?"  
  
"Bethany, he invited you to stay at his place even though he hardly knew you. He made you coffee, let you wear his clothes, and didn't mind when you decided to make long-distance calls and crash in his bed. He's a good guy," Rufus said. "You know he is."  
  
Bethany opened her mouth to reply, but a freshly showered Holden appeared in the doorway. He blinked at the guy wearing his clothes and sitting on his bed. "Who the fuck are you?"  
  
Rufus stood and extended his hand. "Rufus, friend of Bethany's."  
  
Holden stared a second, then numbly shook Rufus's hand. "And how did you get in..?"  
  
Rufus shrugged good-naturedly. "A little invention called 'gravity.' It's gonna be big someday."  
  
Bethany erupted in giggles, and it took Holden a moment, but he laughed, as well. "Wait, are you that apostle guy Bethany told me about?"  
  
"You told him about me?" Rufus said to Bethany.  
  
"You know about Bryan Johnson, but not about this?" she answered, leveling him with a stare. Holden had no idea what was going on, and for once in his life, he didn't mind.  
  
"Um, Banky invited us --Bethany and me, that is-- out to breakfast," he informed them.  
  
"From what you told me, that doesn't sound like Banky," Bethany said.  
  
"Well, okay, I talked him into it," Holden amended with a grin. "Anyway, Rufus, you're welcome to join us, I suppose..." Okay, so Holden didn't really want Rufus to interfere with the importance of the Bethany-Banky brunch. But he didn't want to be rude.  
  
Rufus, however, seemed to realize what was at stake. Maybe it was that whole being dead thing, but he was really astute in relationship situations. "Nah, that's okay. Been a long time since I got to watch TV, I'll make myself at home here. That is, if you don't mind," he added.  
  
"Why would I mind? You're already wearing my clothes."  
  
"I've got my clothes in my car--" Bethany began, but Holden smiled. "I'll get them. Back in a flash." He jangled his keys, and left the room.  
  
Rufus sat back down. "Why'd you bail on breakfast?" Bethany asked. "There would've been hash browns..."  
  
"Don't tempt me," Rufus said, shaking his head. "This is important to Holden."  
  
"What, breakfast?"  
  
"Yes. Don't bother asking about it, I could never explain it to you. But Holden has his reasons, so let it slide."  
  
"I was gonna..." Bethany said. She paused. "So why are you here? Please don't tell me you need me for another holy crusade; I'm not sure if I can handle it."  
  
"I dunno, you did fine on the last one."  
  
"Really, Rufus."  
  
Rufus sighed. "I got kicked out."  
  
"Again? I thought things would change for you up there."  
  
"Oh, you know Metatron. All style, no substance."  
  
Bethany swatted him. "Fine thing to say about the Voice of God. Besides, Metatron's a good guy...if you can call him a guy..."  
  
"Oh, he's only nice to you because you've got divine heritage," Rufus said. "But never mind that. They'll let me back in soon enough."  
  
As if on cue, Holden chose that moment to enter the room once more. "Got your stuff," he announced, waving Bethany's tattered duffel in the air.  
  
"Great. Just let me take a quick shower and change and I'll be ready to go," she said, taking the bag from him and disappearing into the bathroom. "I hope you didn't use all the hot water!" she called over her shoulder before slamming the door.  
  
"I can do whatever I want, it's my place!" Holden yelled back.  
  
Bethany gave no sign of having heard him. Rufus patted Holden's shoulder. "You know, you could just tell her you like her, make everything easier."  
  
Holden practically jumped away, and fixed Rufus with a stare. "What? No. I don't like her."  
  
"Oh, you don't?" Rufus said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I mean, I like her, but I don't, you know, *like* her," Holden said, mentally berating his own stupidity and childishness.  
  
"What is with the living, man?" Rufus cried. "Fuck. Y'all think that 'cause I'm dead, I gotta be deaf, dumb, and blind. Well, I'm not. I lived enough in my time to know when an idiot batch of twenty-somethings wanna jump each other."  
  
"Did she say that?" Holden asked.  
  
"No, she didn't. But that doesn't mean she doesn't want to." Rufus paused, staring at Holden. "You look an awful lot like Bartleby."  
  
"So I heard."  
  
"An *awful* lot."  
  
"Is that supposed to mean something?"  
  
"Well, I'm just thinking that maybe...*maybe* she has a bit of a thing for you because you kinda look like Bartleby and she really opened herself to Bartleby and vice versa. So logically, you stir up some kind of familiarity and comfort in her."  
  
"Well, that's fucking comforting," Holden said. He appeared quite pissed.  
  
"Hold up," Rufus said, and held up one hand. "I'm not saying it's true. I'm saying it's a *possibility*. The living are so big into taking the first thing they hear as being true. And from what *I* heard, *you* had a lot of faith in people to base things on hearsay."  
  
Alyssa. Who was this guy to talk about Alyssa? But, he was right, for the most part. "Well, there were parts where that was true," he admitted.  
  
"Right. So basically you're just listenin' to a dead guy ramble about assumptions. And you know what else? You look like a *lot* of people. Like Bartleby. Like this date rapist Shannon Hamilton that lives around here. I think he fucked over your ex-girlfriend," he commented idly, ignoring Holden's apparent irritation. "Like this kid named Chuckie down in South Boston. Like Rafe McCawley, a captain down from Pearl Harbor. I met him above, good guy. Fuck, you even kinda look like that Ben Affleck guy..."  
  
"Would you shut up already with all the--did you say Ben Affleck? Fuck, he was the *bomb* in Phantoms."  
  
"I loved that movie!" Rufus said enthusiastically, and they exchanged a high five.  
  
Bethany came out of the bathroom, dressed and toweling her hair. "I'm ready. You're driving."  
  
Holden looked at Rufus, looked at Bethany, contemplated everything, and smiled. "Of course." 


	7. Chapter 7, The Diner

To quote the guy at the end of the Clerks episodes: Thanks for watching! ;) And thanks for your great reviews.  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
"So you're not a lesbian," Banky Edwards said.  
  
Bethany shook her head. "For the millionth fucking time, no."  
  
"So you don't have any amusing anecdotes about eating out some chick at your prom?" Banky pressed.  
  
"Dude, Banky, she's not a lesbian. Give it up," Holden said. He was trying desperately to keep his temper, but Banky's insistence was driving him up the wall.  
  
"Okay, okay, sorry."  
  
"If you must know, I went to my prom with my boyfriend of five years," Bethany said good-naturedly, sipping her juice.  
  
"Boyfriend, eh?" Banky said, at last targeting on something. "Did you two get a hotel room afterwards?"  
  
"No, we didn't. We went back to *his* place and fucked. Why pay money?"  
  
Banky grinned. "Makes sense to me. So when'd you get knocked up?"  
  
"Who said I got knocked up?" Bethany demanded.  
  
Banky jerked his thumb towards Holden. "He did."  
  
"Thanks a lot," Bethany said, but she didn't seem terribly angry.  
  
"Sorry," Holden said sheepishly.  
  
"So, when?" Banky said.  
  
"Last year, not that it's any of your business," Bethany said evenly, with a pleasant smile. She waved her glass in the air. "Can I get a refill?"  
  
"My pleasure," Holden said. He raised his hand to signal the waitress and Banky waved his empty glass under Holden's nose. "Buddy? Top me off?"  
  
"Do you have nothing better to do than pump me for cash?"  
  
"What kind of person would I be if I didn't take full advantage of this free breakfast?" Banky countered.  
  
"Kind, considerate, *normal*, perhaps?" Holden said, but he signaled for the waitress anyway.  
  
"I'm going to run to the bathroom," Bethany said. "Hold tight."  
  
The second Bethany was out of earshot, Banky commented, "I like her."  
  
"Really?" Holden said, staring absently at the bathroom door she'd just gone through.  
  
"Yeah, sure I do. She seems nice enough, not totally crazy, and not a man-hating dyke, to boot."  
  
At last Holden faced his friend, on edge. "Alyssa was *not* a man-hating dyke, you son of a bitch. I told you to not fucking call her that ever."  
  
Banky blinked, stunned. "I'm sensing some unresolved feelings towards your ex here," he drawled.  
  
Holden's head dropped onto his arms. "Yeah, I think you're on target with that one."  
  
He moaned into his shirt. "God, Bank, what am I supposed to do?"  
  
Banky shrugged. "I'm seeing an obvious solution here. Talk to Alyssa."  
  
"Obvious, perhaps, but not easy. The last time I saw her was roughly around the time Chasing Amy came out. That ended...vaguely. God," he said softly. "God, I'm fucked up."  
  
"Look, just give Alyssa a call, and tell her exactly what's on your mind. You're happy for her now that she's moved on, right?"  
  
"Yes...no..." Holden sighed deeply, glancing towards the bathroom door. "I'm happy she's happy...I just wish she was happy with me, I guess."  
  
"You're unhappy without her?"  
  
"I don't fucking know, okay!"  
  
There was a moment of silence in which both men sat and stared at their hands. "So, how's Hooper?" Holden asked quietly. "I haven't heard from either of you in awhile."  
  
"He's great," Banky answered, not quite meeting Holden's eyes. "Really, really great. He's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."  
  
Holden smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."  
  
Banky stared at his hands again, and spoke so quietly Holden could barely hear it. "He's not you."  
  
"Bank..."  
  
Banky's face was quite red. "Your girlfriend's back," he said, and hurriedly jumped up so Bethany could get in the booth.  
  
"I'm not his girlfriend, asshole," Bethany said, at the same time as Holden said, "she's not my girlfriend, you dumb fuck."  
  
"Jesus, Holden, keep this one around. She's fucking perfect for you," Banky said with mild contempt. Whether it spawned from Bethany calling him an asshole or from she and Holden apparently being on the same wavelength, he couldn't be sure.  
  
Then again, Banky Edwards was the object of a lot of hostility from a lot of people. A lot. So it was Holden's best guess that the latter option was what was pissing Banky off. He felt for the guy, he really did. He knew that his best friend had a lot of unresolved feelings towards the whole Alyssa situation.  
  
Holden was uncertain about everything that happened, himself. He loved Banky, but not in the sense that Banky loved him, or he loved Alyssa. But Banky had always been his best friend, even with their split of late. After all, when he was scared about his latest 'relationship', who had he called? Banky. He only hoped Banky valued their friendship for what it was, not what he wanted it to be.  
  
"So what did I miss?" Bethany asked.  
  
"Oh, nothing of importance," Holden said with an easy smile. "Just guy talk."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Guy talk.  
  
Banky sighed inadvertently. He hated the way Holden was smiling at Bethany. That lazy grin that Banky knew so well as Holden's 'move'. That easy smile that Holden reserved for someone special. Like Bethany. Like Alyssa. Like the last chick who had come before Alyssa. A someone special that would never be Banky Edwards.  
  
He still remembered, in vivid, Technicolor detail, the night that Holden had proposed a 'solution' to all problems. He had lived for two years now with the bittersweet memory of their first and only kiss. Of coming to grips with his own homosexuality. Of getting rid of all his inhibitions and fears and agreeing to the three-way. And then the memory of finally, fatefully, walking away.  
  
He'd walked away to come to comprehend the situation. It was that simple. But Holden clearly misinterpreted it for something else, because they hadn't spoken in awhile. Banky reflected that he could have rectified that, but frankly, he'd been piss-scared. Holden had been right for once in his life. Banky was in love with him. But Banky knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Holden would never feel the same way. They were everything to each other, and had been for years, but they'd never be lovers. They'd never be together. Certainly not in the way Banky wanted, maybe not in any way. He knew that, and he didn't want to jeopardize what shaky remains of their friendship that were left.  
  
Banky was with Hooper now. It was no big secret. Well, it was to everyone *outside* of their tiny little inner circle. But everyone else knew Banky Edwards and Hooper LaMont were a tentative but willing item. Hooper helped bring out something in Banky that he himself had never seen. He understood that Banky was afraid of this new revelation of homosexuality, and didn't try to speed up the process to suit his own advantages. For this, Banky loved him. For a variety of other things, Banky loved him. But he would never be in love with him, and it was a fact, the one singular thing that kept his and Hooper's relationship from ever fully developing, that Banky still and quite possibly always would hold a torch for Holden McNeil.  
  
And then...and then, when things were close to being really good for Banky, Holden had had a crisis of sorts. Feelings for a new girl. And when he needed sage advice, he'd called the one person he had always trusted. And while the current state of affairs was heart-wrenching for Banky, he couldn't deny the fact that he was happy (delighted, thrilled, overjoyed, ecstatic, was willing to buy huge stock in Roget's to express the endless bounds of his bliss...) Holden had bit the bullet and called.  
  
However, that was before he'd discovered that Bethany was a great woman, not the skank bitch he'd been hoping --praying-- for. And before he'd discovered that Holden, whether the guy realized it yet or not, whether it would pan out or not (Banky suspected it wouldn't), Holden McNeil was totally, life-altering-ly into Bethany Sloane.  
  
And there was shit Banky could do about it. 


	8. Chapter 8, The Potzers

At last! Jay and Bob make a reappearance. To quote the guy at the end of the Clerks episodes: Thanks for watching! ;) And thanks for your great reviews.  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Bethany, Banky, and Holden split ways after breakfast. The latter had some catching up to do, and the former, against her better judgment, wanted to see Jay and Silent Bob again. She estimated that they wouldn't show up at the high school until it let out that afternoon, so she headed straight to the Quick Stop.  
  
Bethany wasn't even halfway through the parking lot when Jay screamed out, "Hey baby, you ever had your asshole licked by a fat man in an overcoat?"  
  
"Not in recent memory," she drawled, and stopped to lean up against the wall with them. "Hey."  
  
"Yo, it's Bethany," Jay said, in case it wasn't obvious. "You wanna fuck?"  
  
"I think I'll pass," she said. "Hey, Bob."  
  
Silent Bob waved.  
  
"So what is there to do in New Jersey?" she inquired. "I've been here almost an entire day and I haven't done that much."  
  
"Except fuck Holden McNeil," Jay said distastefully. "Why would you fuck him and not me?"  
  
"I didn't fuck him."  
  
"You stayed at his place and the two of you didn't fuck?"  
  
"We're not you, Jay," she retorted, and muttered under her breath, "Thank God."  
  
Silent Bob smirked. Jay, who hadn't heard the latter part of the statement, prattled on with, "I *wish* Holden McNeil was me, at least then I'd get to fuck you."  
  
"I didn't fuck him!" Bethany repeated.  
  
"And why not? You want to."  
  
"I do not."  
  
"Fuck, Bethany, we all know you do." Behind him, Bob nodded for emphasis. "But can you at least fuck me first? Or fuck Justice while I watch? Or fuck me *and* Justice?"  
  
"Who's Justice, again?"  
  
"My girlfriend," Jay said, and looked very proud.  
  
"How'd you manage to get a girlfriend?" Bethany marveled.  
  
"Same way I got you," Jay said with a smirk and a shrug. "My charms."  
  
"Yeah, I'm thinking that's not quite right," Bethany said, shaking her head. "You're one sick puppy, friend."  
  
"That was what the fucking hooker said in Hollywood right before she walked off!" Jay said, looking quite irritated. Bethany gaped. Silent Bob rolled his eyes and put out his cigarette butt. "Does this mean you're breakin' up with me *again*?" Jay demanded. "Once wasn't enough? You gotta go breakin' a guy's heart two times around?" He paused. "Will you still pay rent?"  
  
"Jay, for Christ's sake, I was never your girlfriend, and I'm not paying rent! Fuck, I don't even live with you!" Bethany said, sighed deeply, and leaned against the wall again. There was a long pause while Jay took a final drag. "Rufus is here," Bethany announced.  
  
"Angel-be-good?" Jay enthused. "I miss that motherfucker! Where is he?" He pocketed his bag of weed and began to scan the parking lot.  
  
"Not *here* here, you idiot. Here in Leonardo here. He's back at Holden's place, watching Golden Girls reruns."  
  
"Fuck, man, does *everyone* want to fuck Holden McNeil? You, the brother in the borrowed threads, Banky motherfucking Edwards, Finger Cuffs..." Jay ticked them off on his fingers, getting increasingly annoyed with each name. "Fuck me if I ever go fag and settle for his funny-book-drawin' ass."  
  
"The gay community appreciates your devotion to heterosexuality," Bethany responded dryly. "And for the record, Rufus isn't gay and most certainly isn't fucking Holden, and I can guarantee you, he doesn't want to. And for another thing, I-- Wait a minute. Banky's gay?"  
  
"Fuck, you didn't know?" Jay said. "Lunchbox here gave Holden that stupid-ass Amy story, and Holden decided to have a three-way with Banky and Alyssa Jones, and Banky fucking said *yes*! I mean, fuck, he's *gotta* be gay, right? Especially since Finger Cuffs backed out--what the fuck is up with that? I mean, if you were a chick--"  
  
"Last I checked, I was," Bethany said.  
  
"--wouldn't you want to fuck two guys at once? I mean, she fuckin' did it before, that's how she came to be called Finger Cuffs. Get it? *Came*. Fuck, that's the shit," he said, and started laughing. Silent Bob smirked, but caught sight of Bethany's disgusted face, and punched Jay's arm as a cue to shut up.  
  
"Yeah, Holden told me all about that," Bethany said. "He still really loves her, you can tell." She looked vaguely disappointed at this statement.  
  
"Oh, don't shit yourself about it," Jay said, lighting another joint. "He may be a pansy-ass bitch, but he's still *mostly* into chicks." Jay stopped, and frowned. "Last I checked." He shrugged. "Anyway, he'll still fuck you."  
  
"Do you ever let things die?" Bethany groaned. Silent Bob, over Jay's shoulder, indicated the negative. "Holden isn't interested in fucking me, and vice versa. So let it go already."  
  
There was another long pause, as Jay smoked his weed and Bob smoked his cigarette and all three just stared aimlessly into space. Several customers went in and out of the Quick Stop. "I wonder whatever happened to Bartleby and Loki," Bethany mused.  
  
"Those motherfuckers died, remember?" Jay said.  
  
"Yeah, I know that. But did they get to Heaven after all? Or did they go to Hell? What *did* happen? Nothing?"  
  
"Why don't you ask the brother?" Jay said, emitting a huge cloud of smoke as he spoke.  
  
"Of course, why didn't I think of that?" Bethany said, slapping her forehead. "Making the score prophets, two. Go figure, you guys aren't totally brain-dead."  
  
"Fuck yeahhh," Jay drawled.  
  
Bethany pushed herself off the wall. "C'mon, let's go rescue Rufus from late-80's-early-90's situational comedies before his head explodes." 


	9. Chapter 9, The Ex Girlfriend

Well, well, well. If it isn't Alyssa Jones, making her first appearance in my fic. This chapter is really long, I apparently have some leftover Chasing Amy anger. I hope you enjoy and don't have at my head for it being too wordy. Thanks for watching! ;) And thanks for your great reviews, guys, it really brightens my day. :D  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Elsewhere in Jersey...  
"Where are we going, exactly?" Banky asked. He was wandering side-by-side with Holden, talking about anything and everything except Bethany and Alyssa. Hooper came up occasionally in conversation, but Banky ended that when he could. He just wanted to stay away from all relationship topics if he possibly could. He was too scared as to where that could go.  
  
"The Stash," Holden said. "They have the back issue of Madman that I want." He shook his head and smirked. "Classy book."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"Madman. A comic book," Holden said, very slowly, as if speaking to a small child.  
  
"Fuck. I *know* what that is. It was only all you ever fucking talked about when we went to cons. I *wanted* to know where we were going."  
  
Holden sighed, turning onto the street. "Brodie's Secret Stash. It's a comic book store."  
  
"Like I care about that shit. You were the only one who cared about the 'art', about the gratification of seeing it in the stores. If you'll recall, *I* cared about the 'phat cash', as the two stoners would put it. That, and the gay jokes."  
  
"You *are* a gay joke," Holden said irritably, and walked inside.  
  
Banky paused, glaring at his friend's back, and followed.  
  
And walked right into Holden.  
  
"Christ! Are you Lt. Dan? Do your legs not work?" Banky whined, and stepped around a frozen Holden. "If I need intense physical therapy because of this little incident, I'll have you know that I fully expect you to pay..." he trailed off as he spotted what Holden was staring at.  
  
Or rather, who.  
  
In the back, the proprietor of the store --or at least, the guy who looked like the guy on the logo-- was in the back, chatting with Hooper, and...Alyssa.  
  
"Holden? Are you okay?" Banky said softly. He didn't look it, that was for certain. The guy was kinda pale.  
  
"I don't know yet," Holden said.  
  
"C'mon, go over and say hi." Banky gave him a little shove.  
  
But Holden stood fast. "I can't. Alyssa..."  
  
"You're over Alyssa, remember?"  
  
He looked at Holden. The guy was fidgeting, blinking rapidly, looking anywhere and everywhere, wringing his hands...Banky had never seen Holden like this before. He was almost...scared. It was creepy.  
  
Slowly realization dawned over Banky, and he glanced across the room at Hooper --whom, like the rest of his little group, still hadn't noticed them-- to stiffen his resolve. He stared at the floor, and spoke slowly. "Bethany must mean a lot to you if you're too scared to face *Alyssa* of all people."  
  
"Huh?" Despite the answer, or rather, lack of it, Banky knew Holden was listening.  
  
"I mean, you're the dickhead who approached her amidst her fans to give her a comic you wrote about her, after a very depressing and somewhat humiliating breakup. And now, *years* later, just looking at her makes you shake like someone shoved the Energizer fucking Bunny up your ass."  
  
"Hmm."  
  
"It's Bethany," Banky continued. "You know it is. Bethany means a lot to you, hence the reaction, which is all the more reason you should go and just talk to Alyssa already. You're being a pansy ass bitch. C'mon," he said, tugged once at Holden's arm, and when Holden didn't move, marched over.  
  
"Hoop!" Banky said, sounding quite enthusiastic but nonetheless giving Hooper LaMont a brief, platonic hug. Alyssa, who knew better than that, fixed Banky with a look.  
  
"Still in the closet, Banky?" she said, and stepped in line for her own hug.  
  
"Closet? What? No!" Banky said, glancing nervously at the store's owner, who was watching the whole exchange with interest. Banky, with a quick, apologetic look at Hooper, squeezed Alyssa tightly and tried (unsuccessfully) to cop a feel.  
  
Alyssa laughed, and as she pushed him away, saw a slowly approaching Holden.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the ghost of Christmas Past!" she said with a grin, strode over, and gave the stunned man a hug. "Holden McNeil, it's been *ages*!"  
  
"Hey...Alyssa..." Holden said, and looked away from his ex-girlfriend to offer a much nicer, much more comfortable greeting to the others. "Hooper X, what's up? Brodie! My man."  
  
Alyssa frowned at Holden, but said nothing regarding his coldness. "Guess what? The 50th issue of Idiosyncratic Routine just came out." She grinned in a way that she knew Holden loved, and drawled, "D'ya want a signed copy..?"  
  
"Uh, sure," Holden said, glancing at her, blushing, and looking away.  
  
Alyssa looked to Hooper, who just shrugged, uninterested by the antics of the little straight boy. Banky and Brodie were in a bit of a staring contest with one another, and Alyssa could see why: the two held a definite, eerie resemblance to each other. "Holden, can I talk to you privately?" she asked.  
  
"Uh...privately?" Holden half-said, half-squeaked. Funny, she thought the guy was way past puberty.  
  
What on earth was wrong with the guy? Alyssa wondered. "Yeah. *Privately*," she said, grabbed his arm, and dragged him past the red curtains into the adult section. After kicking the solitary patron out with an angry glare, she turned to her ex with a mixture of fury, pity, and confusion.  
  
"What's going on with you?" she demanded.  
  
Holden looked at the floor. "Nothing."  
  
"Like fuck, 'nothing.' There's something seriously wrong with you and I want to know what. I want to know why you're so uncharacteristically monosyllabic, and why you won't even *look* at me." As she said this, she pushed him into a chair, grabbed his chin, and forced him to look at her. "I thought we were friends, Holden," she said softly, her voice filled with hurt.  
  
"We *were* friends," he said darkly, and held the gaze.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
He didn't answer. Alyssa groaned loudly, grabbed a porno mag from over his head, and threw it angrily at his chest. Holden flinched and looked away as Alyssa had a silent rant of frustration, throwing another magazine and crying out not unlike a wounded animal.  
  
Finally, she sat down. She looked at her hands, she looked at her feet, she looked at the small mess she had made, and at last, she looked at Holden. "I read it."  
  
"Read what?"  
  
"Chasing Amy." She gave him pause for a comment, but he said nothing. "It was very nicely done. Drawn beautifully. A personal story."  
  
Still Holden didn't respond.   
  
"I loved it," she told him.  
  
"You didn't call."  
  
"No."  
  
"I told you to call when you'd read it." He looked away.  
  
"Holden," she said, in a voice so serious he had to look at her again. "No, I didn't call. Do you know why?"  
  
"Of course I don't know why. Would I have fucking *asked* if I'd known why?"  
  
"Don't get like that with me," she said in a warning tone, then exhaled. "I didn't call because you *wanted* me to call."  
  
"Oh, that's nice. That's fucking wonderful, Alyssa. Thank you. Thank you so much for this enlightening conversation," Holden said, glaring at her, and rising to his feet.  
  
"Holden, please. You heard me out at the hockey rink and then you stupidly walked away. At least hear me out now before you make the mistake of leaving again."  
  
"Oh, it's about *that* again, is it?" Holden exploded. "About how I'm a fuck up? Listen, Alyssa, I know I'm a fuck up. I fucked up the two most important relationships in my life, and don't think for a fraction of a second that I don't regret what I've done to the both of you, or what a total dick I've been."  
  
"Please..." Alyssa was dangerously close to tears. Despite his anger, Holden didn't want to make Alyssa cry again. Part of him (...all of him...who knew?) still loved her and still hated to see her hurt and still hated to know that he was the one causing that pain.  
  
He sat down. Or rather, in a way to save his dignity, threw himself moodily in the chair in a way that suggested that he was *this* close to leaving, if he didn't like what he heard. Which wasn't true, but his subconscious had a nasty way of trying to preserve his masculinity. Which was essentially why they weren't together in the first place; because he was a walking, talking, textbook example of stupid macho posturing. And God knew he hated himself for it.  
  
"Holden, I didn't call you because I knew what it would lead to," she said softly. "I loved the comic, I really did. And I wanted to forgive you, I wanted to so much."  
  
"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he said, bitterly but honestly.  
  
"You think I don't know that?" she said, and Holden winced. "If I'd called, I would've forgiven you," Alyssa continued. "And I would have apologized, and you would have apologized, and the cycle would have begun anew."  
  
"And that's a bad thing?"  
  
"Yes, Holden. That is a bad thing. Because we're wrong for each other. You know that."  
  
"No, I don't know that! I know that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you're the only thing that's ever been right in my life!"  
  
"I didn't want to go back into 'us, we' again. I didn't want to do that to you because I knew it would never be enough for you because I wasn't what you wanted."  
  
"You were everything I wanted."  
  
"Be that as it may, our *relationship* wasn't what you wanted. You said it yourself; you wanted to be a 'normal couple'. And we never would have been, and we both know it. And I always knew, that no matter what you said about it, or how you acted, your relationship with Banky was more important than me, than anything. And I wanted to give you a chance to get that back, if nothing else. Because in the end, your friendship with him was higher on the list than any other relationship you had," Alyssa finished softly, tears in her eyes.  
  
Holden didn't answer for a long time. He knew, he always had, that Alyssa was right. He loved her. Loved her presently, loved her in the past, he wasn't sure anymore. It blended together in his mind, a cataclysmic jumble of colors and emotions and no conscious thought.  
  
"I met someone."  
  
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, he wondered whether he'd actually said it out loud or just thought it. But he must have; she was nodding. "That's good."  
  
"I like her a lot. But I wanted to tell you."  
  
"Are you asking for my blessing, Holden?"  
  
"No." He paused, and then weighed it out in his mind. That *was* why he was here, wasn't it? "Yeah."  
  
"We're over, Holden, do you realize that? We have been for years now."  
  
"Of course I realize that. It's been the major source of grief in my life for a quite some time."  
  
"Then you understand that you don't *need* my blessing. I care for you, Holden. You know that. A part of me even still loves you, though never quite in the way I once did, and never quite in the way you'll want. All I want is to see you happy. I've moved on; I've been waiting for you to do the same. If you're looking for my blessing, you have it. But you don't need it."  
  
"Thank you," Holden said. He got up, gave her a quick hug, and was gone before she knew how to tell him he was welcome.  
  
"takin this hot, steamy, wet, soapy shower. the door is open. vistors welcome" how many of you seriously use this message? too many.... people will either think, "wow that person is naked. i wish i was there" or "i'd rather die than see that". but they don't come over, so either way you're still "copin this shower solo" 


	10. Chapter 10, The Invitation

This chapter's short, I know, but I suppose in a sense it makes up for last chapter's delve into verbose posturing. In any case, this is basically a set up for stranger things to come.  
  
Thanks for watching! ;) [And thanks for your great reviews, guys, it really brightens my day. :D ]  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
"Man, that Bea Arthur is great," Rufus was saying as Bethany, Jay, and Bob returned to Potzer's Inc. He was totally lounged out on the couch, going nuts with chips and other snack foods everywhere, the remote control buried under a pile of greasy bags of food.  
  
"It's the brother!" Jay yelled, and threw himself on the couch. "How you doin', homes?"  
  
"Get your fucking hands off me, stoner," Rufus said, but he was smiling. "Hey again, Bethany. Biggie."  
  
Silent Bob smiled and waved.  
  
"Rufus, I wanted to ask you..." Bethany started, then wasn't sure how to finish.  
  
"You wanted to know about Bartleby and Loki," Rufus said.  
  
Bethany frowned. "How'd you know?"  
  
"I *told* you, there isn't much I *don't* know about you. And anyhow, I couldn't tell you if I wanted."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"People in Heaven are funny about things like that, they want to keep things hush-hush. Something about maintaining good publicity."  
  
"There's no such thing as bad publicity," Bethany said sagely.  
  
"Try to keep that frame of mind while converting the atheists. Those people are just looking for any excuse to hate our little operation."  
  
"So I've seen," Bethany said. "Can't you give me a little hint? You're an Apostle, for Christ's sake. You must know something."  
  
"Let's just say they're waiting for judgment to be passed and leave it at that, okay? I was already kicked out once this week. I don't want to make my record any more impressive than it already is."  
  
"Fair enough," Bethany said. "Hey! You can't do that in here!" she yelled, snatching a lit joint from Jay and looking for a place to get rid of it. "Jesus." She got up, walked into the bathroom, and the others could hear the toilet flush. Jay made a disgusted face, and shook his head at Silent Bob. "Uptight little bitch," he muttered. Silent Bob and Rufus both glared at him. "What?" he asked.  
  
Bethany returned, quite revolted. "This is someone's home, you idiot," she said irritably. "You can't just smoke in here."  
  
Silent Bob frowned, cigarette halfway to his lips and a lighter in his other hand, but she shook her head at him. Holden smoked cigarettes, didn't he?  
  
"Fuck you," Jay said. "This place is called Potzer's Inc., isn't it? No motherfucking Holden McNeil is going to tell me what to do."  
  
"No," Bethany said, and leaned into his face. "But I am." She sat down in between Rufus and Silent Bob. "How's Jesus?" she asked.  
  
Rufus shrugged glibly. "Black."  
  
"I *know* that. And it wasn't what I meant."  
  
"He's doing okay. Dead and all that. He told me to tell you that He's very proud of you, and can't wait to meet you. But that won't be for awhile yet, don't worry."  
  
"That's comforting. At least I won't die young."  
  
The door to the building creaked open, and four heads peered over the back of the couch. It was Holden.  
  
"I leave, and there's one dead guy on my couch. I come back, and there's a dead guy, a virgin mother, and two stoner fucks. It's like a bad fucking movie," Holden said.  
  
"Fuck, you didn't say you were a virgin!" Jay shouted, staring at Bethany with a mixture of horror and intrigue.  
  
"Because I'm not," Bethany said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"It's from the--" Holden started to explain, then shook his head. "Never mind."  
  
"It's useless, trust me," Bethany said. "Where's Banky?"  
  
"Out with Hooper and Alyssa." Holden coughed. "They invited us --me-- to join them later...do you wanna come?" He looked at Rufus, Jay, and Silent Bob. "You guys too, I suppose."  
  
"Fuck yeah, I'm in it for the bitches," Jay said. "And Silent Bob too."  
  
Silent Bob nodded; Holden looked to Rufus.  
  
"Yeah, I've got nothing better to do, I guess. Thanks for the invite, brother."  
  
"No problem." Holden shook his head, looking at the motley crew assembled in his warehouse home. "This is gonna be interesting," he mused. 


	11. Chapter 11, The Meeting

Sorry this is so late coming, folks. I've been working on another (unrelated) View Askew fic, and kind of neglected this one. Mucho sorries to the crazed few anticipating this chapter. If you want to read the other fic, go to my userinfo, a link should be posted there.  
  
My thoughts on this chapter: Holden's an idiot. My thoughts on virtually *every* chapter: Holden's an idiot. Over and out.   
  
Thanks for watching! ;)  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
It was late when Holden, Bethany, Rufus, Jay, and Silent Bob made their appearance at the club. Bethany was particularly nervous, but she wasn't sure why. Her feelings towards Holden were still unresolved, and when he'd mentioned that Alyssa would be here tonight, he'd looked almost sick. That didn't bode well.  
  
She'd called Liz before she'd left with the others, and received a frantic rant about irresponsible mothers and coworkers. Apparently Alanis had burped up all over Liz's favorite sweater. Bethany had reservations about going out to a club when she was a single mother whose baby was off in another state, but then she remembered that this was why she'd come to Leonardo. To figure things out and maybe have a little fun. And since she was farther away from figuring things out than she'd been back in McHenry, the least she could do was have some fun.  
  
Stepping into the club, she was met by a blast of flashing lights, shiny outfits, and pounding bass beats. Jay ran off onto the floor, no doubt trying to score, while Silent Bob and Rufus went off to find a table. Holden was scanning the room, no doubt for Banky and the others.  
  
"Do you see them anywhere?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head. "Nope. Maybe we're early. Wanna dance, kill some time?"  
  
Bethany shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. "Sure." They moved onto the floor, and began to sway to the intoxicating beat. This wasn't normally Bethany's thing, but she was beginning to seriously enjoy it.  
  
Until the blond came.  
  
Right off the bat, Bethany got a feeling of unease. The woman was short, blond, immensely pretty, and grinning at Holden in a very familiar way. But the kicker was Holden himself. He was smiling back at the woman, in a way that was both nervous and yet loyal and caring.  
  
It had to have been Alyssa. It couldn't be anyone else.  
  
Bethany forced herself to focus, the blond was chatting with Holden. "You're a much better dancer than last time I saw you," she informed him. "You're not *good*, per se, but better." She smiled and turned to Bethany. "Mind if I take him aside, give him some much-needed pointers?"  
  
"I..." Bethany wasn't sure what to say. She didn't really want to leave.  
  
The blond misread her hesitation, and stuck out a hand cheerfully. "Alyssa Jones."  
  
"Alyssa," Bethany repeated, shaking the hand somewhat numbly. "*The* Alyssa?" she asked, although it was painfully apparent from the expression on Holden's face.  
  
"I guess that would be me," Alyssa said.  
  
"I'm Bethany, Bethany Sloane."  
  
"A friend of Holden's?"  
  
"You can say that," Bethany said. Holden was looking back and forth between the two women, slightly pale. "Have you seen Banky around anywhere? I think Holden needs a seat."  
  
Alyssa glanced at her ex. "I think you're right. Banky's over there," she said, pointing.  
  
Bethany took Holden's hand, and led him over to a corner table.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Holden wished he was anywhere than where he was right now. He knew the Bethany-Alyssa meeting was inevitable, but he didn't mean for it to happen quite so soon. Things were too fresh. He was just finally --finally, after *years*-- getting over 'the Alyssa thing', as Banky liked to put it. And now he had 'the Bethany thing' to muddle through. He'd pretty much thrown out all evidence of common sense and conned himself into thinking that maybe they'd never meet and he wouldn't have to deal with this.  
  
He was an idiot, of course.  
  
Holden had many theories worked out in his mind as to what would happen if the women ever met. Fantasy scenarios, more like. Number one was that they would hate each other. Flat-out despise one another, and go into some knock-down drag-out thing for Holden's affections. Preferably with mud or jello.  
  
Okay, so that was the male in him coming out. Scratch it.  
  
Number two was that Alyssa would see Bethany, get jealous, and vie desperately for her ex-boyfriend's love. Of course, that was the part of him that still couldn't live without Alyssa, no matter what had happened between them. But that part was slowly dying.  
  
Then there was the notion was that they would just plain hate each other, without the possibility of mud-wrestling, and might very well end up hating Holden for ever liking the other one.  
  
And lastly there was the theory that they would become good friends, and that Alyssa would tell Bethany the same story that Holden had told Bethany...except that Bethany would do the womanly thing and side completely with Alyssa and then they'd both kick his ass to the curb. This theory was accompanied with the realization that this was the most likely scenario. And an enormous knot of fear building in his gut.  
  
Bethany's grip on him was firm and reassuring. And extremely friendly. He was grateful for that. She sat him down in the darkened corner, while Alyssa beckoned Banky and Hooper from wherever they were. The four of them gathered around, peering down at Holden, who stared up at them, dizzy. "Honey, you are so pale, you look like one of those characters you draw," Hooper observed.  
  
Alyssa put a hand to his forehead. "He's hot."  
  
"It's the lights," Holden insisted, getting his bearings. "Really, I'm fine. Just get me a beer or something, I'll be good, I swear."  
  
"You sure?" Alyssa and Bethany asked simultaneously.  
  
"Positive," he swore, and waved them off. "Go. Give me air."  
  
Holden was alone for several minutes before someone made their way to the table. Enough time to gather his thoughts somewhat and calm down.  
  
It was Bethany. She was holding two cold beers. She sat down and offered him one. "How're you holding up?"  
  
"I'm okay," he said. "Bright lights, lots of bodies, got really hot out there. I haven't done this in quite some time, you've got to understand."  
  
"I haven't done it in longer," she said lightly, and sipped her beer.  
  
Holden stared at her. "You're mocking me."  
  
She smiled innocently. "Me? No. Never."  
  
Holden laughed and took a swig of his beer, finally relaxing. "You're a weird one, you know that?"  
  
"Thanks. Think you'll want to dance again sometime soon?"  
  
Holden folded his arms on the table and leaned forward with a grin. "Why, Bethany Sloane. Are you coming on to me?"  
  
Bethany looked stricken. "Oh, no. I was just asking..." she trailed off lamely. She went red, a gesture barely visible in the dim light of their tiny corner. Holden mentally kicked himself for being an idiot. By the time this night was over, he figured he would have a lump roughly the size and shape of Montana marring his cranium. He deserved that much.  
  
"I want to if you want to," he told her, wondering how stupid he really sounded, and actually breathing a sigh of relief when Rufus and Silent Bob joined them.  
  
"Where's Jay?" Bethany asked, finishing up her beer.  
  
"You mean you haven't seen him?" Rufus asked.  
  
Bethany shook her head. "No."  
  
Silent Bob pointed to the dance floor, pointed to Holden, then mimicked fainting. "I think what Biggie is trying to say is that we saw lover-boy here getting dragged off by a selection of fine-looking women."  
  
"I hope you're including me in that broad generalization," Bethany said, flipping her hair over her shoulder in an act of faux-vanity.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"So the trench here and I figure that something must be majorly wrong for you to leave the floor, because this is a *damn* good song," Rufus concluded.  
  
Holden smiled weakly. "I'm fine, really."  
  
"Glad to know." Rufus stood up. "Because I've gotta dance!"  
  
Bethany stood up, too. "Mind if I join you?"  
  
"Please do," Rufus said, smiling, and they left.  
  
Silent Bob indicated that he was going to go look for Jay. Holden nodded, and was left alone again. This time he was a lot less insane, but as he looked to the floor, where Bethany and Rufus were dancing comfortably with one another, he realized that he was a lot more jealous. 


	12. Chapter 12, The Confrontation

Sorry, guys. With exams and everything, this chapter was a long time coming. But now that school's out, I promise I can get more writing done and finish this puppy. ;) Hope you enjoy chap. 12!  
  
[For the record, it was written in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back that Banky and Hooper were a couple, and if you watch the deleted scenes, the title of that particular scene is 'Yes, Banky's gay'. So I ran with it.]  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
She wanted to be dancing with Holden.  
  
Bethany never wanted to admit it to anyone, but the least she could do was admit it to herself. She owed herself that much, right? That was what all the self-help gurus said, not that she had ever paid attention to them.  
  
Bethany was dancing, moving her body to the sounds of Rum-DMC with Rufus, and wishing more than anything that she could be standing with Holden. Talking about why he'd freaked out when he'd seen Alyssa.  
  
She knew that that was the real reason he'd needed to sit down. Not because of the heat, no matter what kind of front he put up. He'd wanted to sit down and escape because the idea of herself and Alyssa meeting was too much for him. Bethany wasn't sure exactly why she knew this, women's intuition perhaps, but she was certain of it.  
  
So she'd waited until Alyssa was gone, and asked him to dance. She wasn't sure why'd she done that, either. What was the deal with Holden? How exactly did she feel about him? Was she even ready to pursue a relationship?  
  
Over Rufus's shoulder, Bethany spotted a flash of blond hair, and after closer examination, recognized it to be Alyssa. She needed to talk to the woman. She wasn't sure why of this, either. "Rufus, I'll be right back," she called over the music.  
  
"Who's house? Run's house!" Rufus shouted gleefully, punching the air as he danced. Suffice to say, he didn't notice his lack of dance partner.  
  
"Excuse me...excuse me...pardon me..." Bethany said, pushing her way through the crowd. She tapped Alyssa on the shoulder. "Hi, Alyssa?"  
  
Alyssa turned and smiled. "Hi yourself. Bethany, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Sorry about earlier. But I had the feeling Holden really needed to be alone, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, I think he did." Bethany paused. "You're his ex-girlfriend, right?"  
  
"In no uncertain terms, yes," Alyssa said slowly, looking at Bethany like she wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Just feeding my curiosity," Bethany said, as nonchalantly as she could, although she was carefully choosing her words. "In love?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Were you two in love, I mean."  
  
"Yes, I suppose we were, though at different degrees. I'm sure he told you the whole story," Alyssa said with mild distaste.  
  
"Yeah, kinda," Bethany said uncomfortably.  
  
"How long have you two known each other?" Alyssa asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder in the indication that they should sit down.  
  
"Oh, we met yesterday. I came in town to visit Jay and Silent Bob, and Holden let me crash at his place. He's a sweet guy."  
  
Alyssa stared, and swallowed. "Yeah. He is."  
  
"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong? You're giving me a weird look."  
  
"You're the someone," Alyssa realized aloud.  
  
"The who?"  
  
"The someone."  
  
"What someone?"  
  
"The someone Holden met."  
  
Bethany blinked. "I'm not sure I get what you're saying."  
  
Alyssa took a long drink from her beer. "This morning I came across Holden in the Stash, and he informed me that he met someone. And I believe it's you."  
  
"Well, yes. We did just meet."  
  
"I don't think he meant it in that particular sense," Alyssa said knowingly. "Because he pretty much came asking for my blessing in pursuing this someone. That is, you."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"I'm afraid not. Should I be?"  
  
"I don't know." Bethany frowned. How was she supposed to tell Holden's ex-girlfriend that she was debating whether or not her interest in him was totally platonic?  
  
"Look, if you like him, go for it."  
  
"Who said I did?"  
  
"Your body language. I'm sure Holden also told you that I'm quite, how shall we say, *experienced* when it comes to women."  
  
"To say the least."  
  
"Ah, my reputation precedes me," Alyssa said, but didn't look terribly displeased. "In any case, it's all over your face that you're into him. And if you're worried about competition from me, don't be."  
  
"I wasn't."  
  
Alyssa smirked. "I'm sure you weren't. My guess is that he's feeling 'better' now, so why don't you go ask him to dance or whatever it is you straight girls do when enticing a male specimen."  
  
Bethany sighed in irritation. "I tried that already."  
  
"I take it that didn't exactly work out."  
  
"Obviously not, if I'm standing here talking to you."  
  
"Touche. What happened?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"He blew you off? Want me to give him a piece of my mind?"  
  
Bethany looked stricken. "Are you crazy? He practically had a coronary just from you and I exchanging hellos. If he found out I was debating over the future of a relationship between myself and him with his ex, he'd totally lose it."  
  
"Fair enough." Alyssa waited, as if she sensed that Bethany wanted to say something more.  
  
Which she did. "I chickened out, basically. Turned tail and ran off with Rufus."  
  
"Dare I ask who *he* is?"  
  
"A friend. No complications included, trust me."  
  
"Okay then. Listen, ask Holden to dance. Or whatever. If I know him at all, which I'd like to think I do, he won't say no. Go for it." She smiled encouragingly.  
  
Bethany returned the smile, and started off in the direction of Holden's table. She'd barely made it three steps before she turned around again. "Alyssa?"  
  
Alyssa was already dancing again. She lowered her arms. "Yes?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Why are you pushing Holden and me together?"  
  
"I wouldn't say that."  
  
"Well, fine. Call it whatever you will, then. But why?"  
  
"An old friend of mine once said something along the lines of 'very simple, very truly.' I want to see him happy. I think he might be happy with you." And Alyssa Jones, with a smile that was both encouraging, yet a statement that the conversation was very much over, started dancing once more.  
  
Bethany stared for a second, then walked off. 


	13. Chapter 13, The Kiss

At last, something happens that could be integral to the plot? Is there a plot, even? All that and more in this chapter! But first...a Jay segment!  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Jay looked around the room. It was filled with some fine-ass bitches. None of them were necessarily up to Justice's caliber --fuck, they were gonna get married someday, right?-- but they were fine all the same.  
  
He wondered where Silent Bob was. Lunchbox was his muscle, right? So the tubby bitch should've been here by his side protecting him from all these punk duck fucks wandering around drunker than hell. Jay had enough common sense to keep the weed out of sight, at least for a little while, while it was still light out, but he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut for more than a minute or two at a time.  
  
He'd seen all sorts of weird shit tonight. Holden McNeil had gotten all tipsy and shit and had to be led off by Bethany and Finger Cuffs. Jay wondered what that was all about; he hadn't seen any other dealers around. Unless Bethany was rockin' the ganj, but she had been so fucking uptight when he'd been smoking in Holden's place that it seemed really fucking unlikely.  
  
Then he'd thought he'd seen Tons of Fun and the brother wandering off into the corner that Holden and the bitches had gone into, but when he'd gotten closer, it was just the fucking potzer sitting alone and looking all miserable and shit. Jay hadn't wanted to deal with that shit, so he'd walked away.  
  
Lunchbox was still nowhere to be seen, as Jay made his rounds. Lots of fine ass pussy roaming around, some of them checking out the Jay, but he didn't think Justice would like it if he took one of them home. Silent Bob would, though. But he couldn't find that tubby motherfucker fucking anywhere!  
  
Hmm, Bethany and Finger Cuffs were talking now. Jay wondered what that was all about, the bitches had nothing in common except Holden fucking McNeil. Wait. Maybe they were gonna get in a three way! That was something Jay could get into. If you got rid of Holden. He didn't want that whiny chucklehead getting *anywhere* near his shit.  
  
Banky Edwards and some black dude were off in some weird gay huddle. Jay smirked. He *knew* that motherfucker loved the cock! It was gonna be so hard for him to talk to the fuck now, knowing that Banky would be eyeing his package and wondering when he'd get in Jay's ass. *Fuck*, man, never! He didn't do that shit!  
  
Just then, he thought he saw Lunchbox moving past a group of hot chicks. Jay ran off after him.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Hey, stranger."  
  
Holden looked up. It was Bethany, and she was smiling.  
  
"Hey," he said softly, and immediately glanced around for Alyssa.  
  
"She's off somewhere. Don't worry about it." She exhaled sharply. "Want to dance?"  
  
Holden looked at her for a long time. She didn't really look anything like Alyssa, he mused. She was taller, for one thing, and brunette. And they were the same age (he figured), but Bethany looked older. In a good way; like she'd had all of this experience --not necessarily the same kind of experience he'd loathed and envied in Alyssa-- and was a better person from it, older, wiser. And she had a great smile. Really great.  
  
He stood up, and took the hand she extended to him. "Yeah, sure."  
  
They stepped onto the floor, and though they went unnoticed by those around them, Holden still felt as if every eye was on him and Bethany. Like Banky, Alyssa, Hooper, Rufus, even Jay and Silent Bob were all lurking in the crowd, each watching them make a spectacle of themselves.  
  
Holden stepped close to her, and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Do you realize that all of our friends here tonight are probably watching us now?"  
  
"Yeah," she said. "I feel like I'm on a television show or something. Like we're Luke and Laura. Ross and Rachel. Dawson and Joey."  
  
He smiled at her. "Holden and Bethany."  
  
Bethany smiled back. "Look, I don't know if anyone's been talking to *you* about it--"  
  
"Believe me, they have," he interjected.  
  
"--but everyone is pretty much telling *me* that I like you and want you and am afraid to admit to myself."  
  
"And are you?"  
  
"Maybe I am. I don't know. I *do* like you, Holden. I don't really know exactly the depth of my feelings for you, if there even is any depth to them. All I know is that I'm glad that we could become friends, and I'm glad that you agreed to dance with me."  
  
Holden's face twisted into a grin. "You know something? Me too."  
  
And without drum roll or fanfare, or without even so much as a warning, he kissed her. 


	14. Chapter 14, The Reaction

Sorry to keep you all in suspense like that (like any of you were really in suspense anyway). I didn't get writer's block, I have the next two or three chapters already written out, but college happened. That, and I believe the philosophy of keeping 'em waiting.  
  
Well, as things may have it, no new plot developments happen in this chapter, so you'll just have to sit tight and see what comes.  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
Rufus was just stepping off the dance floor when he saw it. The fun sounds of Run-DMC had faded and transformed into some unrecognizable techno bullshit, so he'd decided to go off and get himself a beer. It was times like these that he was so glad to be an apostle and not an angel, poor sober bastards.  
  
And then he saw them. Bethany and Holden, lips locked, standing stock-still in a throng of oblivious bodies that were swaying drunkenly to the music.  
  
He debated getting a hotel room for the duration of his stay on this planet.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Lunchbox!" Jay shouted, pushing aside girls as politely as he could and guys as irritably as he could in a desperate chase to catch up with the tubby bitch. "You fat piece of shit," he panted, colliding with Silent Bob as the other man skidded to a stop in front of him. "I've been trying to find you for the past ten fucking minutes...why're you fucking stopping, man? They take away the snacks?"  
  
Silent Bob, a little wide-eyed, pointed.  
  
No less than ten feet away were Bethany and Holden, making out on the dance floor while people bumped and grinded around them.  
  
"Dammit," Jay said. "I'm too fucking late."  
  
Silent Bob glared his at his friend, as if to say, 'what about Justice?'  
  
"Oh, shut up, you tubby fuck. I didn't mean it like that."  
  
Silent Bob looked skeptical.  
  
"Well, I didn't!"  
  
~~~~~  
  
Banky and Hooper were walking to the bar, engaged in what must have been round one million and one of their perpetual argument over Archie's sexual orientation. "Look, I'm willing to believe that there is something between Bluntman and Chronic, though I highly doubt that was Holden's intent when we created this thing, and certainly not mine," Banky said. "There may even be something between the *real* Jay and Silent Bob."  
  
"Speculate all you want, honey, but I don't think so."  
  
"That's moderately comforting. And for another thing, I flat-out agree that Batman and Robin are more than 'partners.'"  
  
"Oh, they're partners all right."  
  
"But Archie and Jughead? Not fucking likely."  
  
"I thought you would have learned by now."  
  
"Yeah, well, sometimes I find it hard to believe that you have..." Banky trailed off. "Oh my God..."  
  
"What is it?" Hooper asked, looking around, and emitting a small excited squeal when he saw it. "My oh my. Is that our own dear Holden McNeil, tortured artiste?"  
  
"The one and only," Banky said, unable to take his eyes off the couple, kissing each other like they hadn't touched another human being in years. Which was probably true, he reflected.  
  
"And who's that lady he's with?"  
  
"Bethany, his new friend," Banky said bitterly.  
  
"Banky dear, this fixation of yours with our little Mr. McNeil is trying my patience."  
  
"I'm sorry Hoop, it doesn't mean anything."  
  
"I should hope not," Hooper said, and began to stride off in the opposite direction of Holden and Bethany.  
  
As he followed, Banky couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, an almost wistful expression twisting his face.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Alyssa wasn't sure who her dancing partner was. She was a bit more than drunk, and had come to the point where she didn't really care. She was seeing someone right now, a beautiful swimsuit model named Christina. But what Christina didn't know wouldn't kill her. And a meaningless dance with a cute bi girl wasn't going to hurt anyone.  
  
She'd never had a fling of any sort when she was with Holden. Hadn't even so much as looked at another girl. Stupid shit like that had never mattered when she was with him. Nothing mattered when she was with him. But that was over now.  
  
Good riddance, right?  
  
As she and the blond woman spun in lazy, drunken circles around each other, Alyssa spotted a couple embraced across the floor. She smiled faintly, remembering the conversation she had had with Holden in the bar about fleeting love the first time they'd met. Things were so innocent then, when they were just friends and there were no complications. No suspicion, no hidden emotions, just innocuous friendship.  
  
Alyssa looked to the couple again. The others in the club just went on with their business as if these two didn't exist. They probably didn't exist to anyone but each other. It would've been cute, if she hadn't been so cynical and dizzy.  
  
They broke apart, and Alyssa got a good look at them. The guy was Holden. It was Holden (with Bethany, surprise, surprise), and he was grinning and looked really happy. She hadn't seen him like that since...well, it had been a long time.  
  
Since her.  
  
Alyssa smiled to herself and kept dancing.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"That was...that was...unexpected," Bethany said.  
  
Holden was embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I..."  
  
She smiled at him faintly. "Don't be. I didn't say it was bad."  
  
"Well, if it was, I'm sorry, I'm kinda out of practice."  
  
"Stop apologizing! It was good. Unexpected, but not unwanted and not unappreciated."  
  
"I crossed a line, didn't I," Holden said.  
  
"Most likely, but you don't hear me complaining."  
  
"Is this going to fuck things up for us?"  
  
"Holden, things were fucked up for us from the get-go. Let's just take things as they come and wait a few days before fucking each other, okay?" She smiled at him, a testimony to something, but Holden couldn't read it.  
  
"Fair enough," he said with a grin. "In any case, I *would* like to get back to my place, maybe watch TV, maybe collapse and ponder the meaning of existence. I'm not sure what the great plan is, but I know I was right about one thing, the club and I do not seem to agree."  
  
He tossed her a smile, and she returned it. "Sounds good to me." 


	15. Chapter 15, The Morning After

I haven't forgotten you, I've just gotten sidetracked by other projects. And that little college thing. Sorry.  
*Karasuma*Firestorm*  
  
R for language.  
  
Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me, I guarantee it.  
  
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~  
  
It was late. God only knew how late. Bethany was so exhausted, she wasn't totally sure why she'd woken up.  
  
She squinted into the darkness, and saw Holden. She was in his bed. They'd spent hours sitting up and talking about anything and everything. The only thing 'unusual' about the situation was the setting; but although they were in his bed, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Just the best conversation of Bethany's whole life, before falling asleep on top of the sheets.  
  
Bethany wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation. She liked Holden. She liked him a hell of a lot, and last night only put so many notches in the proverbial belt.  
  
But she was afraid of where this would go. She had a kid, for Christ's sake. That wasn't something you could easily forget.  
  
Was she even considering a relationship with Holden? She would have liked to. God, yes. He was incredibly sweet, intelligent, talented, had a past that he'd learned from, and a future full of possibilities. Oh, and he was cute.  
  
What could he ever see in her, she wondered. She was in her early thirties, a single mom with a bastard (well, technically, Alanis was) child and an ex-husband she hadn't spoken to in God knows how long and yet still resented. She had a useless degree and worked a dead-end job as an abortion clinic counselor. She hadn't had sex in, well, *years*. She was friends with stoners and baby-killing coworkers. She had a crappy small apartment. In her estimate, the only thing she had going for her was a hell of a lot of faith, and that turned most guys *off*. So what in the name of all that was holy did Holden see in her to be so wonderful to her as he was being? It didn't make any damned sense.  
  
She heard the sound of the front door creeping open, and went out to investigate. Peering over the banister, assessing before acting, she was relieved to see it was only Rufus coming in. She made her way down the stairs and greeted him with a smile. "You're coming in late."  
  
"Go figure. They won't rent hotel rooms to dead men."  
  
"Hotel room?"  
  
"I didn't want to be kept awake all night by you and Holden making *sounds*, if you catch my drift." Rufus shook his head. "The dead need sleep, too."  
  
"That's what cemeteries are for," Bethany responded dryly. "'Sounds?'"  
  
"Yeah, sounds." Rufus twisted his easily-molded face into an expression of rapture (it was particularly ridiculous, Bethany noted, thinking of the Metatron), brought his voice up an octave, and squeaked out, "Oh, Holden! Oh, HOLDEN!"  
  
Bethany was torn between indignation and amusement. "Stop," she said, trying not to giggle. "You're being loud, you'll wake him up."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"Have sex with him? No."  
  
"You don't seem too disappointed."  
  
"We've only known each other so long. I don't want to do anything I might regret."  
  
"A john only knows his prostitute for a few minutes before bedding her," Rufus argued with an annoyingly calm expression.  
  
"Prostitute analogies," Bethany said with mild disgust. "Lovely. You want some breakfast?"  
  
"Is it that time already?" Rufus said, peering at one of the large windows. "Damn."  
  
"You must have had quite the party," Bethany remarked, leading the way into the kitchen and rummaging around for food substances. Holden's life as a bachelor didn't provide many rewards for houseguests. "Speaking of breaking fast--"  
  
"Were we?"  
  
"You were. So at the Last Supper, how come they all sat on one side of the table?"  
  
"Beats the hell outta me. It just goes to show. I get up to take a piss, and they paint one of the most famous paintings in the world while I'm trying to find a suitable bush to squat by." Rufus gave a labored sigh. "Being black sucks sometimes."  
  
"I wouldn't know." At last, Bethany found some cereal (Cap'n Crunch, but she'd survive) and some milk. Holden's shopping expeditions were few and far between, and minimal to say the least, but to his credit, the milk was fresh and the cereal wasn't stale. She got out three bowls. It was starting to get light outside, and she figured Holden would be down soon.  
  
"So if you didn't 'bone it', as our little stoner friend would so eloquently put it, what did you spend the entire night doing? Because that was some kiss you two were engaged in when I saw you."  
  
"You *saw* that?"  
  
Rufus nodded.  
  
"Fuck."  
  
"What? It's about time you got laid, Bethany Sloane."  
  
"You're telling me."  
  
"Ah, you're thinking about it."  
  
"I am not."  
  
Rufus fixed her with a look. "Bethany, I know *everything* about you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Can we change the subject?"  
  
"Because I'm right?"  
  
"Because you're annoying." She poured milk over his Cap'n Crunch, and in her haste ended up sluicing some moo juice on Rufus's --Holden's-- shirt. "Damn, girl!" He jumped up. "Now I've gotta go change, and my cereal's gonna get soggy."  
  
"I feel your pain," Bethany retorted, and watched the apostle storm off with a smirk playing at her face. She turned to replace the milk, and was half-immersed in the refrigerator, searching for butter and jam for toast when she felt a hand, warm and strong, pressed against her waist.  
  
She jumped, and came awfully close to bashing the fridge light. "Fuck!"  
  
The hand was gone. "Sorry," Holden said sheepishly, helping Bethany remove herself from the refrigerator without further injury. "Maybe it's a bit early for that." Whether he meant early in the morning or early in their relationship, Bethany didn't know. Nor did she get a chance to find out, because Holden added, "You're making breakfast?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Usually that's my role when I have nightly visitors." At those words, he winced, for reasons unknown, though it passed as quickly as it had come. Bethany had the suspicion it was subconscious, and decided not to press it.  
  
"I'm not the right kind of visitor," she replied.  
  
"Maybe soon you will be," he answered, both his tone of voice and the look he gave her laced with suggestion. She found herself blushing.  
  
Rufus came back in, wearing a wifebeater that was clearly one of Holden's collection. It was a bit yellowed from aged sweat stains that only come out with the strongest of bleaches, and was several sizes big for Rufus, considering the noticeable difference in build between the two men. "I'm starved. Let's eat." The lone chair squeaked aggravatingly as he dragged it across the floor, and he plopped himself in it with a satisfactory sigh.  
  
Bethany and Holden exchanged a look. "The living room it is," Holden said, grabbing his cereal bowl, and the mismatched are-we-or-aren't-we couple made their way into the living room, careful not to spill any cereal. 


End file.
